Paternal Intuition
by LostinOblivion
Summary: Mulder and Scully didn't completely lose William. Set in May 2008, after IWTB. MSR.


_A/N: Since the last two seasons and the new movie were basically a Lifetime meets the X Files sobfest, I felt like we needed a more hopeful ending to it all. You'l have want to have seen both movies, all the mytharc episodes up through the Truth, and Wetwired. I'm saying William's from the IVF, and considering the results a false negative. No blood test is infallible._

_Also, since they've already mangled the timeline of the show so completely (at least for 8 & 9), I'm tweaking it to fit my needs. This story takes place a week after IWTB, which I'm saying took place in May, not when it was released in July. Also, I have no idea where Mulder's house is in IWTB, so I guessed._

_Thanks for reading!_

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A Farm House in Wyoming

May 20, 2008

A small, skinny boy wiggled in his seat, a full-tooth grin plastered on his face. He was in his play clothes: a green t-shirt with a cartoon monkey, and worn blue jeans with dirt already all over the legs. He'd been running around outside with the three other boys and two girls at the table. He was a hell of a runner, and his long legs made it easy for him to beat his playmates.

He had thick, messy red hair, that to his eyes looked a very ugly vomit brown, only a few shades lighter than the vomit brown he saw in his green t-shirt. And, he couldn't see the delicate green flecks in his hazel eyes. They'd found out less than a year ago that he was red-green colorblind. The same time they'd discovered his need for glasses when he read.

None of it slowed him down one bit though. The energetic child didn't seem to care one way or another, a relief to his parents. Still, his mother had made sure to get silver and blue decorations for the party, down to the bright blue party hats on all the kids' heads.

In front of the boy, was a chocolate cake with seven candles glowing brighting, and near-blending with his flame-colored hair. It was a homemade cake, with delicately crafted icing, proclaiming in thick, creamy letters, "Happy Birthday William!" The kind of cake his birth mother never would have been able to make.

He knew this. He felt it from the not-quite-voice in his head. There weren't words, no one actually spoke to him inside his mind, but it was much more than just a feeling. He'd felt it there since he was a baby, when he lived with his birth mother--the woman whose voice he could still hear singing to him in his dreams sometimes.

At first, it had been like those games at school, where they have you stick your hand in a box, and tell them what it feels like. There was just a presence in his mind, but all he could do was guess at it. After a while though, that presence and he had learned to interpret each other's signals, and now they could almost talk.

He remembered--inexplicably--the presence being a soothing force when he came to live with Van De Kamps. He was afraid when he couldn't find her face and bright blue eyes among all the strangers, and he shared that fear with the presence in his mind. It couldn't have protected him, he'd known that, but it meant that he wasn't as alone as he feared.

William hadn't told anyone about the presence in his head, he knew they wouldn't understand. To everyone else, he was a highly intelligent boy with a uncannily strong sense of intuition. He was quick to learn, insatiably curious, and adventurous to the point of almost being reckless. But, still as normal as the other three boys at his party.

Truth be told, William was extraordinary only so far as his birth parents were.

He was not, as so many had believed, a super-soldier. Nor was he an alien-human hybrid implanted in his mother's womb. This isn't to say that the boy wasn't...special. He did posses alien DNA. The same alien DNA that his father had been exposed to, which had worked itself into his genetic make-up. If he'd been conceived the old-fashioned way, he'd have had some of the DNA his mother was exposed to as well. But, she'd been barren, and so had used ova removed before her exposure to the alien virus.

But, she'd breastfed him.

The virus, the cure, had, much like in the boy's father, altered her natural biology forever. Like any other immunization, she passed it to him in breastmilk. It turned on something in the already more-than human infant that gave him telekinetic abilities. When his mother gave him up, he was no longer exposed to it, and his telekinetic abilities abruptly stopped. The switch couldn't be completely unflicked though, and still with his father's special genetics, William kept that link to the presence in his head.

Now, at his seventh birthday party, William appeared as any other boy would--excited and happy at all the attention and presents. He looked at all his friends with a big birthday smile, and leaned toward the cake as they began to sing. Almost unbidden, her voice came back to him, singing that song about the bullfrog. They finished with a cheer, his mother and father smiling happily at him, and he closed his eyes.

William made the same wish he had the last three years, since he'd started wishing, and then blew out all seven candles in one giant breath.

* * *

Unassuming Rural House in Virgina

May 20, 2008

Mulder's attention caught at the sight of the car, knowing exactly who it was, and feeling a twinge in his chest at seeing her. If he was ever honest with himself (which he rarely was), he'd admit that he'd stopped living just to find the truth years ago, and now largely for the next time he'd see her. And, when they'd finally see their son again. One can only hang on hope for so long, before they need something real--someone--to put their arms around.

She had taught him that.

His long legs held the porch swing he was reclined on steady, as he sat and sipped a beer. Another beer sat on the small table nearby, droplets of condensation sliding down the side. He knew she'd come. They always spent William's birthday together, seeking comfort in each other's presence.

His first birthday had been the hardest. They'd been on the run for less than a month then, and they were already tired. Scully was inconsolable, crying on and off from sunrise until she'd exhausted herself enough to fall asleep. Mulder had done what he could for her, but it hurt him too. He had so few memories of his own son. He'd never even seen William smile.

Scully walked up the wooden steps, and sat beside him without a word. He cracked open the perspiring beer, and passed to her silently. They leaned back almost at the same time, and as Scully took a long pull of the light ale, Mulder wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. She leaned into him, sighing tiredly.

The years hadn't been easy, and they certainly hadn't been anything resembling a picture-perfect couple, but they had their own odd understanding. They would never marry. It was a toss-up if they'd even live together again. But, there would never be anyone else. After fifteen years of being friends, something completely undefinable, lovers, and now some combination of all three, they both knew without a doubt that they were it for each other.

They had a child together.

And really, who else could deal with all their baggage without screaming and running for the hills?

"How's he doing?" Scully asked, and took another sip of beer.

"Very happy. He was winning whatever game they were playing. He's got so much energy, Scully. I can't remember ever having that much energy."

"Oh really?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "I recall having the distinct impression that you were like a little kid with the X Files. Bubbling over with unquenchable enthusiasm...it was intoxicating."

He grinned. "Is that how I got you?"

"Part of it." She smiled.

The X Files could often be miserable, but they were just as often fun, and god help her, nothing made her feel as alive as working those cases together. Mulder's enthusiasm had been nothing less than contagious.

"Whoa!" Mulder's eyes suddenly went wide, and he chuckled.

"What?"

"I'm thinking William got that bike he wanted. He's reallllllly happy right now."

Scully looked up at him with a bittersweet smile. Mulder had a connection to William that she would never have, but at least...they did have a connection.

"Yeah, he's got to be opening his presents now, with all the happiness buzzing in my head right now."

When Mulder first began to feel the connection, he'd thought it was Gibson Praise. With considerably difficulty, he tried to understand the feelings, vibes and impressions running through his head. He felt someone on the other end, and he knew when they were happy, sad, angry, and scared. It had even frightened him a little. Especially the day Scully gave William up.

All Mulder felt that day, was that whoever he had that connection with was scared. Scared, confused, and even a little desperate. Everything felt turned inside out, nothing seemed right, and he felt naked. Mulder spent a solid weak with a rock in his stomach.

Then he found Gibson, and hid with him in the desert. The boy assured Mulder that it wasn't him the connection was with, and proceeded with twenty questions. Gibson helped him figure out that it was William, and that honestly, terrified Mulder even more. What had happened to his son? Was William alright? Was Scully even alright?

When Skinner told him what she'd done, it came almost as a relief. The timeline fit, that's why William had been so upset, he couldn't find his mother. Even with that relief though, it still hurt like hell.

He hadn't told Scully about the connection for a while; he didn't know how she'd take it, or even if she'd believe him. He told her the week before William's first birthday, and she'd taken it with mixed feelings. Disbelief, amazement, joy, even jealousy made an appearance, until she finally settled on comfortable. She hadn't completely lost him, and that meant the world to her.

Now, it had become like every other bizzare aspect of their lives--completely and utterly normal.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"What's going to happen when he grows up, and gets a girlfriend?" She smirked at him.

Mulder visibly paled. William came through clearest to him when his emotions were particularly strong, and eventually, he would meet a girl, and bring her home, and...no parent needs to know about those things.

"Let's hope we figure out how to control it more by then."

Scully offered a small smile, and together they settled into silence.

"Stop that, Scully."

She looked at him in surprise.

"One of these days you have to stop questioning yourself. He's celebrating his birthday with all his friends--we couldn't have given him that." He spoke forcefully, as he had the last seven years, assuring her over and over again that she'd done the right thing.

If she'd kept William, he'd have spent his first few years of life with two parents on the run, only to eventually settle with Mulder in hiding. He would have no friends, couldn't have gone to school, and would have only known them. That was no life for a child. Or at least, not a happy one.

They both knew that, but it didn't stop Scully from constantly questioning her decision. It probably never would either.

"What? Can you read my mind too, now?" The small smile tugging at her lips wasn't entirely pleasant.

"No, I just know you." Mulder sipped his beer.

"What did he wish for this year?" She leaned with her on his chest, and stared blankly at the trees through the waning light.

"Same thing as every other year. He knows who's in his head, and wants to meet us."

"We've talked about that. It isn't safe."

"I know. He's going to be wishing that a long time."

"Just until he's eighteen. I want him to have a childhood." When it came down to it, Scully would steadfastly refuse any idea of reclaiming their son, and thereby putting him in danger, but it didn't stop her wondering, her questioning.

Mulder smiled at her. "You have any idea how long eleven years is to seven year-old?"

She smiled back. "Surely, it's an eternity."

"Actually, I think it's two."

Corners of her mouth twitched up, she leaned over and kissed him, just a little peck.

"You know, now that you're no longer a fugitive, you can visit civilization."

"What's there to visit, Scully?"

"I don't know...Skinner? My mother?"

He responded with a dubious look.

"What? You're the father of her grandson, Mulder. Of course, she wants to see you."

"I don't know, Scully...I guess I've gotten used to hiding away."

"You've always hidden away, Mulder. Even when we had the X Files, and you'd run across the country on a moments notice, and jump on a damn train without thinking, you still hid away in the basement."

"Ah, correction_, They_ hid me away."

"No, they hid the x files away, you hid yourself."

"Well, I wasn't the only one hiding down there."

"No, I know." She grew quiet, a big part of her grew to like the peace and solitude of their basement office. "Humans are a social species, Mulder. You need to be around people...other than me."

He pulled her tighter, and whispered, his lips brushing her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "And, why would I need other people?"

"Because it's healthier that way." No matter what feelings he sent roaring through her body, she'd learned how to construct a coherent sentence through them...with considerable difficulty.

He kissed the top of her head. "Alright Scully, I'll go to the library tomorrow. Happy?"

"You're a wildman, Mulder," she teased.

"Shut up."

She grinned, finished off her beer, and set the empty bottle on the small table beside his also empty bottle.

"Mulder?"

He pulled his attention from the sunset back to her.

"Tell me what he's doing?"

Mulder nodded, and intertwined their fingers, pushing his feet off the floor, setting the swing rocking slowly back and forth. He spoke softly, reaching for that connection to sense what their son was up to. His voice, the creaking of the wooden swing, and bugs chirping were the only sounds as night fell upon them.

They were in their own way, content.

William was happy and healthy, and they would see him again one day.


End file.
